


sublunary

by habibisope



Category: Darker Than Black, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anime AU, Crime AU, Dark Thoughts, Darker Than Black au, Eventual Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, anxiety probably, as time goes on, but like they are, but not really, dark themes, jungkook and hoseok are not, light Violence, other members to be added, yoongi and hoseok wanna bang in their freaky crime world okay that's basically what this is, yoongi and namjoon are human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-12-14 03:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habibisope/pseuds/habibisope
Summary: Jung Hoseok is dangerous and for some reason, Yoongi doesn’t want to run.*****(or, an anime au where Yoongi and Hoseok work for a crime syndicate and are sad and wanna bang.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! basically this is going to be a series of drabbles set in an alternate universe that's based on my favorite anime, _Darker than Black._ this won't really have a super cohesive plot line but things will probably happen in order for the most part. 
> 
> a lot of what actually goes on in Darker than Black will _not_ be included because it's too complicated for me to explain and honestly, it was even really complicated in the anime as well. the core elements of that universe is what I'm using to write this au. 
> 
> so for those who aren't familiar with the anime, things about the universe will start to make more sense as I post more chapters.
> 
> contractors are basically humans with powers, whereas everyone else is still human.
> 
> hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> *warning for a very brief depiction of a dead man*

The sky is a deep, deep blue. Rich enough, deep enough to make you feel like it could swallow you whole. 

And Yoongi loves it. Loves those blue hours. Looks forward to evenings like these, where he can just stare out the window while Namjoon drives. He watches the buildings as they pass by, as he passes them. Likes the way the lights smear a golden yellow across the city as it moves. 

“I think this will be good for you,” Namjoon says, breaking Yoongi out of his thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“Your new partner, I think he’ll be good for you. I’ve met him alread-” 

“He’s just another contractor, isn’t he? They’re all the same at the end of the day.” 

“That kind of thinking will only make things harder for you.” 

“Tell me it’s not true, though,” Yoongi insists, turning to glance at Namjoon. 

Namjoon shifts in his seat. “I can’t say, hyung. There’s so much we don’t know,” he reaches to turn on the radio. “People don’t treat them-” 

“No, they don’t,” Yoongi interrupts. 

“So if you know that, what makes you so sure they’re all the same?” 

He thinks about it. Yoongi’s not really sure, in all honesty, sometimes he just wants to believe it’s true. Because like all humans, he finds it easier to be ignorant about the things he can’t change. 

Thinking that contractors are just human weapons, bought by crime syndicates to do their dirty work is easier than thinking of them as real people. 

It always has been. 

They kill, steal, torture, do whatever they’re told- whatever they’re _paid_ to do and they do it without any guilt or remorse to hold them back. 

Contractors can’t _feel._

It’s what makes them so useful. 

Yoongi often wonders what that’s like: the inability to feel. He cracks the window open and pulls out a cigarette. The buzz from the nicotine washes over him and he exhales, watches the smoke creep out the window, like it’s glad to be free. 

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “Anyway, thinking of them that way really doesn’t get you anywhere.” 

“And where has it gotten you? It’s bullshit and you know it.” 

“They were human once before, what makes them any different now?” 

Yoongi huffs, taking another drag and puffing out more smoke. “You _know_ what makes them different.”

“We’re here,” Namjoon conveniently announces as they pull into an empty parking lot. 

“Abandoned apartment building? That’s new.” 

“Boss said it might work better than warehouses, especially for this kind of thing.” 

“And what kind of thing is this exactly?” 

“You’re going to see what he can do,” Namjoon says, stepping out of the car. 

Yoongi follows and shuts the door behind him. The sound echoes a little in the empty parking lot. Yoongi tries to see if any of the lights are turned on in the building, but no, they’re completely surrounded by darkness. 

He wonders if Jungkook is here already. 

“...see if his abilities are useful to you,” Namjoon continues. “Otherwise, the syndicate will partner you up with a different contractor. Have you only ever had the one partner before him, hyung?” 

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, flicking the last bit of his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it with his heel. “Just the one.”

“His name is Jung Hoseok. Korean. Which should make your life real fucking easy, your Japanese is shit,” Namjoon says once they’re inside the building.

And like Yoongi suspected, Jungkook is already here, considering the lights turned on the second they stepped in the building.

“I get by,” Yoongi mutters, looking down the hallway. 

The building is old and musty, the walls a sickly beige color that makes Yoongi uneasy.

Namjoon scoffs. “He’s fluent in five languages, but Korean and Japanese are definitely his strong suits.” 

They take the stairs up to the third floor, walking to the end of the hallway before Namjoon stops in front of a door to their left. He gives three short knocks before twisting the knob and entering the apartment. 

The apartment is completely empty, walls the same awful color and the carpet and even more vomit-inducing shade of orange. 

Namjoon walks up to one of the bedrooms, repeating his previous signal with three short knocks on the door before stepping inside. 

The smell of burning flesh immediately fills the space and Yoongi brings a hand up to his nose immediately, trying his best not to breathe any more of it in. Namjoon pinches his nose, swatting his hand in front of himself as he looks ahead.

“Seriously, man? You were supposed to wait for us,” Namjoon says. 

There in front of them is the man in question, Yoongi’s new partner, Jung Hoseok. 

He stands at an angle with his back to them and his head is thrown back.

Yoongi swears he can hear him humming faintly but has trouble figuring out the tune, focusing most of his energy on not breathing in the smell of burning skin.

And then he looks more closely and he sees it: Jung Hoseok is crying. A tear falls down his face, traveling sideways before Hoseok snaps his head back forward. He brings an arm up to his face, rubbing his eyes into his sleeve. 

Dropping his arm, Hoseok turns again so that his back is the only thing Yoongi and Namjoon can see. 

He stands like that for what feels like hours before he finally turns around. 

“Hey,” he says, voice just short of cheerful and accompanied by a bright smile. 

“Why didn’t you wait?” Namjoon says, voice firm. 

Hoseok shrugs. “He doesn’t need to see how I use my powers, just what they do.” 

Namjoon sighs, shaking his head. “That’s not how it works. Yoongi, do you understand what his power is?” 

Yoongi looks forward again, past Hoseok, to the deceased man in front of them. 

His head hangs back, jaw open wide and eyes rolled back deep into his skull. His skin is red, a deep, deep red - the color of raw flesh and he’s steaming. The dead man in front of them is literally steaming. 

Yoongi tsks and looks away, unsure of how much more he can take before he vomits. 

Hoseok chuckles. “Are you sure you’re in the right field?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi bites back, snapping his head up to glare at Hoseok. 

Hoseok’s eyes brighten at that and he smirks at Yoongi.

“How does it work?” Yoongi asks. 

“What?” 

“Your power,” he says. “How does it work?” 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“If you’re gonna be my partner, I think it’s important I know how you kill people. Don’t you?” 

“I don’t see why that matters,” Hoseok says, stepping back with his arms open wide. “I can get information from anyone and I can kill anyone,” he smiles, bringing his arms back down to his sides. “Why do you need to know how I do it?” 

“For a contractor you seem hellbent on not doing the rational thing,” Yoongi says, irritated. 

Hoseok tsks. “I am being rational.” 

“No, you’re acting like an idiot and if you think-” 

“Stop,” Namjoon says loudly. “Maybe this arrangement-” 

“No,” Hoseok interrupts. “I’ll work with him.” 

“Not if you don’t tell me exactly what it is you can do,” Yoongi says. 

“It doesn’t matter _how_ I do it,” Hoseok says, his voice growing louder as he walks over to the dead man in the chair. He grabs him by the hair, lifting his head up.

Yoongi’s gut sinks. 

“You see this, right? This man burned to death from the inside. What more do you need to know? He’s dead and I killed him after he gave me the information I was sent to get. Why the fuck does it matter how I did it?”

Yoongi grits his teeth. “I need to know how it works in case-” 

“In case I use it on you?” 

Namjoon looks at Yoongi, eyes concerned, and Hoseok lets go of the dead man. He stalks forward, until he towers over Yoongi. 

He’s really not that much taller than Yoongi by any means, but his presence is everything. 

He makes Yoongi feel small. 

“You really wanna see what I can do?” Hoseok asks, leaning into Yoongi’s space, voice something wicked and Yoongi wants nothing more than to be wrapped up in it. 

Hoseok’s hand hovers beside Yoongi’s cheek, fingers centimeters away from his skin and then Namjoon is gripping Hoseok’s wrist. He pulls Hoseok’s hand down and shoves, until Hoseok falls backwards onto the ground with a grunt. 

“I don’t like saying this shit, Hoseok-ssi, but don’t forget that your life is expendable! Don’t forget what the syndicate can do to you if they don’t want you!” Namjoon yells. 

“Fuck the syndicate,” Hoseok spits. He looks back up at Yoongi, gives him another smirk. “Just look at you,” he says, laughing. 

Yoongi walks forward. 

“You looked so excited and yet so ready to fucking shit your pants-” 

Yoongi squats down, leaning over until he’s inches away from Hoseok’s face and looks straight into his eyes. “You don’t know anything about what I am,” he says, grabbing Hoseok’s jaw. 

Hoseok smiles at him, eyes bright like fire.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Yoongi mutters, tilting his head and letting his eyes scan across Hoseok’s features.

He lets his gaze linger on the way Hoseok’s lips are twisted into a devilish smirk, sees the tiny mole on his upper lip. When he looks back up at Hoseok, his eyes have changed, something different swimming in them, some emotion Yoongi can’t place. 

Yoongi loosens his grip on Hoseok’s jaw and finally lets go, keeping his gaze stead as he backs away. He extends his hand, looks down at Hoseok, tries his best to come off indifferent to Hoseok’s entire existence even though truly… 

Yoongi has never felt more exhilarated in his life. 

Jung Hoseok is dangerous and for some reason, Yoongi doesn’t want to run. 

Hoseok takes his hand, smile spreading across his face again as he pulls himself up. 

“If you two mess this up, you’ll have no one to blame but yourselves,” Namjoon says, voice uneasy and Yoongi knows he’s nervous.

Because he was wrong about Hoseok being good for him. 

So, so wrong. 

Namjoon is nervous. 

Yoongi thinks that maybe he should be, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ughssope)
> 
> thank you for reading! 
> 
> xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! I haven't written anything in a little over a month but here we are!! 
> 
> I'm sorry if it's a little rough or weird or I dunno, I'm a little anxious about posting since its' been so long and I feel just a little out of my element. 
> 
> I still want this to be a series of drabbles but I also think the next one or two chapters will be follow ups to this one. 
> 
> for context, Hell's Gate refers to an astronomical anomaly that occurs in the DTB universe and is weird and doesn't really make sense. I'll explain it more as it comes up but yeah that's all you need to know about it. it's the event that gave humans powers, turning them into contractors.

Yoongi’s just about to order his food when Namjoon calls him.

“It’s only a few blocks from where you are,” he tells Yoongi over the phone. “Hoseok will meet you there in fifteen.” 

“You’re lucky you called now, I was just about to order.” 

“You can get dinner after you take care of this and-”

“You don’t have to say it,” Yoongi groans. 

“This will be your first job as a team, don’t fuck it up,” Namjoon says sternly. 

“Whatever,” Yoongi mutters and hangs up. 

Like Namjoon said, the meeting place is only a few blocks away, but Hoseok is nowhere to be found. 

He’s just about to text him when- 

“Looking for me?” 

Yoongi spins around in time to catch Hoseok walking out into the street from an alley. 

“Thought you might not show up,” Yoongi answers, turning away to continue heading the direction of the meeting place.

Hoseok strolls up next to him. “Why would I do that?” 

Yoongi ignores him. 

They walk toward the abandoned warehouse and Hoseok seems to let himself fall behind, just enough so that he’s trailing Yoongi but still keeping himself at a distance.

Why he does so Yoongi hasn’t a clue. He’s either genuinely concerned about upsetting him, which Yoongi thinks wouldn’t make any sense given how they first met. Or, he’s doing this purposefully to piss Yoongi off. Rile him up. 

A few men stand outside the entrance of the warehouse and Yoongi slows down, calling out the phrase needed to enter the premises in Japanese.

They nod at him and the gate opens slowly. Their eyes leave Yoongi quickly, moving to glower at Hoseok instead. Hoseok, who doesn’t stand out because he’s dressed like some street fashion model. 

No, their looks of disgust are directed at Hoseok because they know what he is without him having to do anything at all.

They know because, if what Namjoon told Yoongi is true, Takahashi Kazuo, the man in question, has a particularly strong hatred for contractors and makes sure that all of his men have that same hatred ingrained into them. A resounding reminder that contractors are nothing but weapons, easily disposed of and easily forgotten, is beaten into them as part of their training. They could probably guess that Hoseok was a contractor even if he was dressed as the most basic of civilians.

Yoongi chances a glance back at Hoseok and sees that he’s completely unphased, grinning at the men who look at him with nothing but unadulterated revulsion. 

He doesn’t understand how it doesn’t bother him, to be looked at like he’s scum. But then Yoongi remembers Hoseok’s a contractor, and having those kinds of feelings don’t come naturally to him. 

They don’t come to him at all. 

“Yoongi-san!” a short man greets him, walking forward until he’s just a foot away from Yoongi.

“You must be-”

“Takahashi Kazuo, yes. It’s good to finally meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Yoongi says. 

“Your Japanese is very good, I’m surprised.” 

“I do what I can,” Yoongi shrugs, giving the man a small smile, thinking of how Namjoon would cackle if he were here to hear that compliment.

“So, I guess we should get right down to it, hm?” 

“After you.”

“According to one of my informants, one of my best men is leaking information to a rival syndicate. One in America with connections to the CIA. As of yet, the information he’s been leaking has been minor and non-threatening to us.” 

“What does he want from you?” 

“He wants out,” Takahashi scoffs. “Obviously, this is impossible.” 

Yoongi nods. 

Leaving always means death. There is no way around it. Once you sell yourself to the world of crime, a world even more corrupted after the appearance of Hell’s Gate, there is no getting out. At least not without a shit ton of stealth, money, and protection no one can guarantee.

He hears Hoseok light a cigarette from where he’s standing behind him, the smell of it washing over him. Grounding him.

“Your boss is a close friend of mine, and he agreed to help me dispose the man, Kobayashi, before he can leak anything detrimental to _both_ of our organizations.”

“I see.” 

“He’s currently hiding out at a love hotel in Kabukicho. One of our men spotted him there two weeks ago, and we’ve had eyes on him in case he decides to leave the country.”

Hoseok snorts and speaks up. Yoongi turns to look at him as he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, crushing it with the tip of his foot. “It seems kind of useless to send us after him, don’t you think? What kind of yakuza are you all anyway? You already know where he is. Catch the rat yourself,” he tells Takahashi in perfectly fluent Japanese, an informal whine coloring his voice.

“Excuse me?” 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi says in Korean, voice firm. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“I don’t buy this for a fucking second. They have everything they need to get this guy and they wanna pay _us_ to do what? Find some idiot who clearly wants to get himself killed?”

“Don’t be stupid. We receive orders from the top and we _follow them_ because that’s the way it is. If it blows up in the boss’s face, that’s not our fucking problem. So keep your mouth shut before I have to dispose of you myself.”

That earns Yoongi a pleased smirk from Hoseok, his eyes twinkling.

“You know, Yoongi-ssi, I think you’d like to believe you’re a tiger when you get all worked up like that. But really, you’re more like a kitten. It’s kind of cute,” Hoseok giggles. Fucking giggles, like they aren’t in the middle of a deal with the yakuza right now. Like they’re fucking children playing pretend. Like it’s his sole purpose in life to get under Yoongi’s skin because he knows how well it works.

And Yoongi wants so badly to shout for real, to call Namjoon up and tell him he can’t work with Hoseok anymore. He wants so badly to just punch the guy, if only to wipe that smirk clean off his face. Thanks his fucking lucky stars that Namjoon had told him that Takahashi, despite his status, doesn’t understand a lick of Korean, otherwise they’d both have holes in their heads right now.

He grips Hoseok’s jaw in his hand, remembers he’s had to do this before and hates himself for it. Hates Hoseok for pushing him to that point. When he speaks he lets his anger through, reprimands Hoseok in Japanese and hopes it works. “You speak when I tell you to, do you understand? You don’t get to have opinions. Your job is to kill when we tell you to, to gather information when we tell you to, and to speak _only when we tell you to._” 

Hoseok’s eyes shine.

They shine and that playful smirk doesn’t leave his face, not even for a second. 

Letting Hoseok go, Yoongi faces Takahashi once more, hoping he bought that little act. Hoping he won’t kill them right there because of Hoseok’s little outburst.

“Contractors are really something else, aren’t they, Yoongi-san?” 

Yoongi nods, holds his gaze firmly as he looks back at Takahashi. 

“I have a particularly strong hatred for them,” he continues, talking easily like Hoseok isn’t even there for a moment before acknowledging him. “Does that bother you, Hoseok?” 

Yoongi glances behind himself to find Hoseok glaring at Takahashi, something close to bloodlust painting his features as he scowls and Yoongi hopes that he doesn’t try anything. They’re outnumbered and Yoongi remembers that he doesn’t even know exactly what Hoseok’s power is. They’d both be ill equipped to handle any kind of mishaps if things unfolded in the wrong direction.

Takahashi’s eyes leave Hoseok and find Yoongi again. 

“Kabukicho,” he says, voice low and threatening. “I want Kobayashi brought to me, dead or alive, in 48 hours. If you do need to kill him before bringing him to me, I’ll need to know how much information he’s released, and how much he has. If you find any physical evidence, bring it to me. _All of it._ I will know if you leave something out, and your boss may be a close friend, but you two are nothing to me.”

Yoongi nods. “Understood. It will be no problem, Takahashi-san,” he assures the man, bowing. 

“You may leave now. I hope your contractor isn’t too much of a waste to you.” 

Again, Hoseok trails behind Yoongi, eerily more silent than when they had first arrived. 

Confusion riddles Yoongi’s mind. He doesn’t understand Hoseok, not even a little bit. Moody yet so sure of himself. Unfeeling and reckless and yet, Yoongi gets the feeling maybe that’s not all true.

Gets the sense that maybe, just maybe, Hoseok _feels_ things. Just the notion of it makes Yoongi’s stomach churn. 

Gain and acquisition are the only things in this world contractors care about. That and their own safety.

“Hey,” Hoseok says quietly. 

Yoongi hums. 

“I’m hungry.”

✧*✧*✧*✧*✧*✧*✧*

“That was some talking-to you gave back there, _Yoongi-ssi._” Hoseok says mockingly once they’re seated.

A waitress comes by and takes their orders before Yoongi has the chance to respond. 

Once she’s gone, he openly scowls at Hoseok. 

“I was fixing the mess you made.” 

“What? You couldn’t handle something like that? You really thought that piece of shit would’ve done anything to us?” 

“He would’ve if you kept your mouth running,” Yoongi snarls. 

“And how do you know?” Hoseok asks, tilting his head to the side. He sneers, looking back at Yoongi like he’s a child. “I asked this the first day we met, but are you sure you’re in the right field?” 

“I’m disciplined.”

“And what’s that supposed to tell me? That you shit your pants everytime daddy raises his voice at you?”

Hoseok wants Yoongi to play this game. He breathes through his nose instead, sends daggers with his eyes Hoseok’s way.

“Awe, did I make you mad, baby?” 

Something inside of Yoongi snaps.

“_Hoseok-ssi,_” Yoongi says, voice dripping with false respect. “Do you know what you are? Do you really understand what you are to people in this world?” 

He curses himself the second the words leave his mouth. Hoseok’s a contractor, but he’s also Yoongi’s partner. 

And he’s foolish for playing into his banter. Foolish for doing anything other than ignoring someone who doesn’t really want to fight, just wants to be heard for once.

“I do,” Hoseok nods.

Their food arrives then. Hoseok thanks the waitress, who is blatantly staring at Hoseok. He smiles up at her and gives her a wink. She blushes and walks away. 

Yoongi thinks that in some other life he might’ve found that a little endearing. Some other life, where Hell’s Gate never appeared, where Yoongi didn’t work for the syndicate, some other life where Hoseok wasn’t bound by some unknown, cosmic contract. He really might’ve found Hoseok’s personality something he could enjoy, the way he likes to tease. He might’ve found himself attracted to Hoseok, in more ways than one.

He would allow himself that feeling… in some other life.

“You know, Yoongi. I think it’s _you_ who doesn’t understand just what we are. I mean, you know what they say about us, don’t you?” He takes a bite of his food. “Contractors,” he says behind a mouthful of rice, “are rational and emotionless things. Ruthless. Cold.” He swallows. “Right?”

“Stop.” 

“What?” Hoseok lilts. “You asked me if I understood what I am and I’m explaining it to you that I do. Very much so, actually.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything and he continues.

“Vile,” Hoseok spits, tone changing into something venomous. He shifts forward, one elbow propped on the table by his plate of food as he moves forward. “Repugnant. Disgraceful-”

Yoongi feels bad for ever starting this, for ever scolding Hoseok in front of Takahashi.

Because Hoseok’s eyes glisten and there is only one explanation for that. 

Despite it all, though, Hoseok’s voice doesn’t crack or waver. 

“Hey-” Yoongi starts to say, trying and failing to put a stop to what he’s started. For the pain he’s caused.

“Evil-” Hoseok’s voice rises.

“That’s en-”

“Monsters-”

“Hoseok-”

“_Not human,_” he says finally and with finality, staring at Yoongi for a moment longer before sitting back with his arm draped over the booth. He takes another bite of his food and chews, eyes still locked on Yoongi’s face, waiting to see how he’ll react. 

Yoongi keeps himself composed. To the best of his abilities, at least. 

Hoseok swallows his food, looking away for a moment before his eyes meet Yoongi’s again. “People wanna go on and on about how we’re doomed. They say we’re cursed, that we can never live long because of what we are. But have you ever thought about why that might be, Yoongi? Have you ever agreed with that statement?” 

Yoongi stares back at Hoseok and says nothing. 

Hoseok snickers. “I’m sure you have at some point. That’s okay, you’re only _human._” 

He sits up, leaning forward again until his breath tickles Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi holds his breath as Hoseok brings a hand up to his face and glides his knuckles across Yoongi’s cheekbone. The touch is featherlight, barely there. Intimate, if someone on the outside happened to catch it.

Yoongi doesn’t move, doesn’t even know what to think. He knows he’s blushing, would take the time to be embarrassed if guilt wasn’t filling him to the brim right now.

And then Hoseok snaps his fingers and Yoongi feels it. Feels the blood as it moves, coursing through his veins. Feels the warmth it brings only to that little bit of skin Hoseok’s knuckles grazed.

“What is the reason a contractor’s life ends early? What is the life of an emotionless, repulsive monster to a syndicate? To a government?”

Yoongi swallows and doesn’t answer.

“Nothing but a pawn,” Hoseok answers for him. “A tool. We’re not cursed, Yoongi, although I might be,” he chuckles, moving to sit back in his seat. “We’re not cursed. We’re-”

Yoongi knows what he’ll say next, but he doesn’t want to hear it. 

He’s thought it before, too, countless times. Makes his job easier, makes the lifeless faces he sees easier to ignore. 

And right in this moment, Yoongi feels nothing but soul-shattering guilt for ever thinking that way. 

Because like everyone else, Yoongi truly believes that contractors are simply-

“Disposable.” 

Yoongi brings a hand up to his cheek, wants to feel the warmth against his fingers, like its tangibility can’t truly be felt unless he presses his fingers against it.

He doesn’t tear his gaze away from Hoseok at all. 

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?” Hoseok asks. He gives Yoongi a small smile, like his usual smirk but softer and more serious. Like he’s not trying to rile Yoongi up this time.

He breaks Yoongi’s gaze, resting his head on the back of the booth and closing his eyes as he hums a sad little tune Yoongi’s never heard before.

Yoongi has never seen something so beautiful.

When Hoseok’s done, he lets his eyes trail up to meet Yoongi’s slowly.

“I know exactly what I am, Yoongi.” There in Hoseok’s eyes Yoongi sees it, sees an emotion he can’t place. His own eyes moving down to watch Hoseok’s lips move as he asks, “Do you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ughssope)
> 
> if it wasn't clear in the last chapter it should be very clear now that yoongi has a Big Crush on hobi even though he hasn't entirely admitted it to himself yet. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! thank you for reading!! 
> 
> xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flashback chapter! we get a glimpse into hoseok and jungkook's past, yay! (it's sad, though, tread carefully) 
> 
> how contractors come to realize they're contractors isn't really explained in the DTB series, so this is kind of like my interpretation/spin on how I imagine it'd happen
> 
> I hope it makes some sense >.<

_ten years ago_

Hoseok is seventeen when it happens.

His family had only arrived in Japan a few years prior due to his father relocating for work. 

Hoseok didn’t mind, still doesn’t. He likes Tokyo just fine, was initially surprised that he had no trouble picking up the language at all. 

He didn’t really have friends back home in Gwangju, so there was no one to miss him. That was better anyway, Hoseok thought, it meant he could start new. 

At school he keeps his head down and acts like someone he isn’t. Acts like someone who isn’t interested in anyone, who doesn’t want to talk to or make connections with anyone. 

He doesn’t really understand it, but the behavior seems to be intuitive, so Hoseok never questions it. Some part of him thinks maybe he’d like to make friends, but something else tells him the less people he knows the better. 

Today, Hoseok’s intuition seems to be telling him to prepare for something. Anxiety sits low in his stomach, churning and leaving Hoseok feeling on edge through all his classes. He can’t really tell if it’s just anxiety or if it’s really his gut, but whatever the case may be, he doesn’t like it. 

His thoughts are occupied with some imminent sense of doom and destruction. He can’t focus on a single thing. 

When the final bell rings he’s quick to leave his classroom and he rushes to pack up his things as he thinks of getting home.

He feels so wound up, and the feeling only heightens with each passing moment. His surroundings are a blur as he rushes through the hallways, eager to get home, and he’s so unaware of anything outside of his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the person walking in front of him until they run right into each other. 

Their books fall to the ground, and the other student is apologizing already, crouching down to pick up their belongings. Hoseok just stands there, gawking at nothing in particular, like he’s never interacted with a human being before. 

“I’m so sorry,” the guy says. He seems to be a bit younger than Hoseok, maybe a first year. “I really need to watch where I’m going-” he cuts himself off, his fingers wrapped around one of Hoseok’s notebook. 

Hoseok still stares and says nothing. He watches the boy’s eyes go big as he scans Hoseok’s name written in katakana, like he’s just discovered some hidden universal truth. 

“Oh,” he breathes out before looking back up at Hoseok, smiling this big toothy grin and Hoseok really just wants to go home. 

He doesn’t want to entertain whatever that smile means. 

“Listen,” Hoseok starts to say, unsure of what could be so amusing about his own name. “I really-” 

“You’re Korean?” the kid asks, and it takes Hoseok a second to realize he’d asked the question in Korean. 

Hoseok scratches the back of his neck, chuckling half-heartedly as he answers in Korean as well. “Yeah. I’m guessing you are, too? “

The boy nods. “I’m Jeon Jungkook! Nice to meet you, hyung!” 

“Hyung?” 

“I’m a first year-”

“Right, right. It’s just been a while since anyone’s called me that,” Hoseok tells him. “I’m Jung Hoseok.” 

“So, Hoseok hyung-” 

“Listen, Jungkook, I really need to get going. I don’t feel well,” Hoseok says to him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you headed to the subway? That’s how I get home.” 

Hoseok curses internally. It’s not that he doesn’t like Jungkook, he doesn’t even know him, he’s just too on edge to entertain anything other than his thoughts right now. But he does take the subway home, there’s no way around that. 

They walk to the station together, and who would’ve guessed, Jungkook gets off at the same stop Hoseok does. 

He spends the entire trip home telling Hoseok about his family, how excited he is to have met another Korean person at school. Japanese is a struggle for him but he tells Hoseok confidently that he’s good at picking things up eventually. 

Hoseok is as polite as he can be, given the state he is in. Normally, he might not have minded Jungkook’s presence. He seems nice enough, seems like someone Hoseok could get along with. Hoseok thinks he may even be the first person he actually _wants_ to be friends with since moving to Tokyo. 

But the feeling in his gut still won’t leave him. It grows and grows as Jungkook chatters away.

“Maybe our dads work for the same company,” Jungkook muses as they reach their stop. “But your dad must be higher up if he got transferred here so long ago.”

Hoseok shrugs. “Yeah, maybe.” 

Jungkook lives with his mother in an apartment building a couple of streets down from Hoseok’s home.

“Guess we’re neighbors,” Jungkook says, smiling at Hoseok. 

Hoseok can’t really help but smile back. Jungkook is cute, all doe eyes and bunny teeth, and Hoseok has always kind of wanted a younger brother. 

“I’m glad I met you, hyung,” he continues. “It feels good to speak Korean with someone other than my family. 

“I get the feeling,” Hoseok nods, smiling. 

“So I guess I’ll see you at school after the weekend? We could take the train together.”

“That sounds good, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok pats him on the shoulder. “I really gotta get going now, though.” 

“Okay, I hope you feel better. Bye, hyung!” Jungkook waves as he walks away and Hoseok deflates. 

His mother greets him when he enters his home, toeing off his shoes as she smiles at him. 

“How was your day, sweetheart?” 

Hoseok nods. “It was good, I- uh- I made a Korean friend. His name’s Jungkook.”

“Oh, that’s lovely! You should invite him over for dinner sometime.” 

“Yeah, sure. Where’s Jiwoo?” 

He misses his sister, she’s been out a lot more lately, studying at her university. She’s always been good at cheering Hoseok up when he gets like this. 

“She’s studying with a friend, she’ll be home for dinner.”

Hoseok frowns. “Okay.” 

“Hoseokie, are you alright?” 

“I’m just not feeling so well. I think I’m gonna go to bed.” 

“So early?” she walks over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Do you want me to wake you for dinner?” 

“No, it’s alright,” Hoseok says. He tries giving her a small smile, can see the concern in her eyes as she tries to piece together what might be wrong. 

She pulls him into a hug and Hoseok basks in it. He kisses her cheek when they pull apart and heads up to his room. 

He doesn’t think about why he couldn’t help but feel like that would be the last time he ever got to hug his mother. 

Hoseok is standing in the middle of his street.

It’s dark outside, but it feels like artificial darkness. When Hoseok looks up he sees that the sky is black, not a star or cloud in sight. 

Just darkness, swallowing the entire city whole. 

And then he sees Jungkook running up to him. 

“Hyung!” he shouts. “Hoseok hyung!” 

“Jungkook?” 

He finally reaches Hoseok, panting as he braces his hands on his knees. Hoseok notices then that Jungkook is crying. 

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks him. 

“You’re the first person I’ve seen. Everyone is- everyone is gone,” he tells Hoseok, tears running down his cheeks. His eyes are wide and panicked. He looks at Hoseok with some mixture of relief and dread painting his features. 

“Kookie,” Hoseok says softly, reaching out for Jungkook, who just shakes his head and backs away like Hoseok will hurt him. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” 

“Did you hear what I just said?” Jungkook sobs. “Everyone is gone, hyung.” 

“What do you mean everyone is gone?” 

Hoseok looks up at the sky again. The stars are still missing. 

“I mean I’ve walked around the neighborhood for what feels like hours now, and no one is here. My mom wasn’t home when I woke up-” 

“When you woke up?” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. He looks worried all of a sudden. “Didn’t you check to make sure everyone was home? Didn’t you see that bright light?” 

“Bright light?” Hoseok asks, confused. 

Jungkook is talking too fast.

The sky is black. 

Hoseok doesn’t remember ever waking up, he just ended up here, in the middle of the street, in the middle of a world with a starless sky. 

He can’t remember anything before that. 

“Jungkook,” Hoseok starts, he can hear the fear in his own voice. “What the fuck are you talking about? What bright light?” 

“I was in my room studying and then everything started shaking. I thought it was an earthquake but it stopped almost as quickly as it’d started, and then- it enveloped everything, hyung. I don’t remember what happened after that. I woke up in bed and when I went to find my mom she wasn’t there and it was so dark out and I went out to look for her and- and-” 

“Okay, okay, Jungkook-ah. You need to calm down.” Hoseok walks up to him, grabs him by the shoulders. “Just relax, alright? Breathe, okay, breathe with me.” 

Jungkook closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly. Hoseok grounds him with his hands on his shoulders still. He doesn’t bother doing the same, just stares up at the sky and does his best not to panic while he tries to wrap his head around everything that’s going on. 

He brings his head back down to look at Jungkook then, just as the younger boy is opening his eyes, and then Hoseok stumbles back, arms falling away from Jungkook’s shoulders. 

“Hyung?” Jungkook tilts his head at him. “What’s wrong?” 

And now Hoseok can’t help the panic rising up within him, because Jungkook’s eyes-

“Your eyes,” Hoseok says. 

“What? What’s wrong with them?” 

“They’re red.” 

“What?” 

And then the ground is shaking beneath them. 

“Is it an earthquake?” Jungkook says, voice panicked. He moves closer to Hoseok and Hoseok flinches back again. 

“Stay away from me!” Hoseok yells at Jungkook, shutting his eyes. 

The ground is still shaking but Hoseok doesn’t care, he sits on the street, bringing his legs up to his chest.

He just wants to disappear. He wants to get out of here, wherever he is, but his legs won’t move. 

The ground is shaking and the sky is black and Hoseok needs to _run_ but he’s frozen in place, fear and confusion and worry filling him to the core, anchoring him to the street that’s quickly falling apart.

Hands are on his shoulders a second later. “Hyung,” Jungkook says, shaking Hoseok lightly. “Hyung, it stopped.” 

Hoseok opens his eyes, looking around them. 

Everything is fine, there’s not a crack or break in the ground. The buildings around them all look as if nothing was shaking their foundations. 

Jungkook is crouched down in front of Hoseok, one hand on his knee. He’s crying again.

“Hyung,” he breathes out, wide eyes locked on Hoseok’s. “Your eyes.” 

And Hoseok doesn’t need to say anything else to know that he’s doomed, too.

Hoseok wakes up with a start, finds himself drenched in sweat. The clock on his nightstand tells him it’s a little past eight in the evening. 

He’d slept a little over four hours, then. 

Images of Jungkook’s crying face flash through his mind. 

His red eyes. 

The fear swimming in them when he’d looked back at Hoseok and said the same had happened to him, too. 

He pushes it all away. 

It was just a bad dream, just a nightmare. 

His mother smiles at him when he walks into the living room, his father is seated beside her on the couch. 

Jiwoo doesn’t seem to be home yet. 

“Did you sleep well?” His mother asks. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles, waving to his father before heading into the kitchen.

He takes a seat at the dining table and thinks of Jungkook. Wonders why someone he just met would appear in one of his nightmares like that. 

His eyes were red, almost glowing, and Hoseok’s were, too. The image is so vivid in his mind, and no matter how hard Hoseok tries to push the thoughts away, they won’t leave him. 

They cling to his mind. 

He’s about to take a bite of his food when the ground starts shaking. 

Hoseok curses, panic quickly taking over him again. He runs back to the living room and finds his parents holding onto each other, standing as they watch the books on the shelves rattle, a few falling to the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Hoseok shouts at them. “We need to get outside!” 

They seem startled by his presence, like they forgot he was there, like they forgot they had a son. Nodding, they finally rush over to Hoseok and follow him outside. 

He makes sure to keep a hand on each of them as they leave. 

The earthquake doesn’t seem to be as bad as others he’d experienced living here. They somehow manage to keep their balance despite the earth quivering beneath them. 

And then it’s over, only seconds later.

Hoseok breathes out.

He needs to look at the sky, but he can’t just yet- and then his mother gasps beside him. When he turns to look at her, she’s pointing up at the sky. 

_Don’t look,_ he tells himself. _Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look._

And then the world is bright, a flash of white light enveloping everything that surrounds them. 

“Eomma,” Hoseok says, voice panicked and high. He clings to her arm, can feel his dad beside him, squeezing his hand tightly. 

He thinks of Jiwoo and hopes that she’s okay. Hopes that she’s safe, wherever she is. 

“I’m right here, Hoseokie,” his mother tells him calmly. He takes a second to admire that she can be calm when the world is literally ending right before them. 

Darkness spreads across the sky just as quickly as the bright light and then everything is quiet. 

Hoseok waits for more, anticipates something even more drastic, but nothing comes. 

He spaces out, his surroundings completely lost to him as he remembers his dream. 

He wants to look up at the sky, he needs to. 

This can’t be real, this can’t be happening. 

“Hoseok,” his father nearly shouts, shaking Hoseok by the arm. “Can you hear me?” 

“I- I’m sorry.” 

“What was all that?” his mother asks. “I need to make sure Jiwoo is okay,” she makes to go back inside the house but Hoseok’s father stops her. 

“Not yet, let’s wait a few more minutes.” 

“Jiwoo-” 

“She’s probably fine.” 

Hoseok doubts that for some reason. 

He tunes out his parents bickering, mind racing as he contemplates whether or not he should confirm what he suspects has happened. 

His mother pointing up at the sky had been answer enough, if Hoseok is being honest with himself, but he still needs to see it. 

Some part of him secretly wishes Jungkook would turn up right now, the way he did in his nightmare. Maybe it’d make more sense that way. 

Maybe Hoseok could pretend he was just dreaming again. 

He looks up. 

And just like he’d feared, 

the stars are gone.

Thirty minutes later, Hoseok and his parents are in their living room. His mother is near hysterical, sobbing as Hoseok’s father grips the tv remote so hard Hoseok thinks it’ll break in two. 

He doesn’t know what to make of anything. 

The headline on the news broadcast informs them that whatever had just occurred was not normal. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes. 

Of course it wasn’t fucking normal. 

But what’s more concerning, what has Hoseok’s mother in fits of tears is the fact that a large chunk of Tokyo has been wiped out. 

The only information they’ve gathered for the public is that it must have been some cosmic anomaly, and until they can send in experts, everyone is to remain in their homes. 

“Jiwoo,” Hoseok’s mother sobs. “Her friend lives-” she cuts herself off, shoving her face into her hands. 

Hoseok’s father wraps an arm around her, holding her close. Hoseok can tell he wants to cry, too. 

And Hoseok… Hoseok says nothing. 

There is nothing left to say.

The next morning is quiet. 

The world outside is silent, as is the inside of Hoseok’s home. 

It took a while for Hoseok and his father to finally convince his mother to go to bed, whispering false promises that Jiwoo was fine. Maybe already on her way home when it all happened. 

But that’s just what they were: false promises.

Lies. 

Because Jiwoo never came home last night, and that could only mean that she’d disappeared along with everything else the event took.

They were calling it Hell’s Gate. The announcement was made an hour after the initial broadcast. Apparently, a similar event had occurred in South America ten years ago, taking a large portion of Brazil with it in its wake, much in the way the appearance of Hell’s Gate had taken part of Tokyo. In South America it was called Heaven’s Gate. 

Hoseok doesn’t remember ever hearing of such a thing, but his parents do. They told Hoseok it barely made headlines internationally, and that the only reason they knew about it was because of one of Hoseok’s father’s friends - an astrophysicist he knew back in Korea. 

The worst part is not knowing exactly what any of it meant. Not knowing what exactly had happened to Jiwoo, or the millions of other people who disappeared last night. 

Hoseok finds his mother sitting at the kitchen table. The lights are off and she stares at the sink, but Hoseok knows she’s not really looking at anything in particular. 

She’s shocked. Her only daughter is gone, and she doesn’t even know how or why. Doesn’t know if she’s alive or dead or suspended in some kind of space no one can see. 

Hoseok is shocked, too. The urge to sob hasn’t left him since last night, but he can’t fall apart, not when his mother is like this. Not when she needs at least one other person in their home to keep it together while she grieves. 

“Eomma,” Hoseok mumbles, approaching her slowly. He’s afraid she’ll burst if he doesn’t take each step cautiously. 

“Oh, Hoseokie,” she says, voice wavering as she looks down at her hands. “She’s not coming back, is she?” 

Hoseok’s eyes well up with tears and he does his best to not let them fall. His throat tightens up and he clears it before he speaks. “I don’t know,” he tells her honestly. “But we just have to hope that she’s okay.” 

She nods, small and defeated. 

“I need to check on someone, so.. I’ll be back,” Hoseok tells her.

His mother’s eyes snap up to his face, frightened and nervous.

“I’m not gonna disappear, eomma. Don’t worry, I just need to check on Jungkook.” He gives her a small smile, trying his best to reassure her. 

She nods again. “Just be careful, Hoseokie.” 

“I will.” 

And then he’s out the door. 

He wishes he’d asked Jungkook for his apartment number at the very least. He’d left his phone up in his bedroom in his haste to get to Jungkook as soon as possible. 

He feels and looks like an idiot, standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment building, like he’ll just come down-

“Hyung?” 

“Jungkook, thank god,” Hoseok breathes out. He grabs Jungkook’s arm, tugging him away from his building and into a nearby alley. 

“Hyung, what’s going on?” 

“Did you have a weird dream last night?” Hoseok asks him, finally letting go of Jungkook’s arm when he’s sure there’s no one around to see or hear them. 

He doesn’t imagine anyone would want to go out right now, though, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. 

Jungkook freezes, stares back at Hoseok with wide eyes. “What?” 

“Did you dream of anything? Something bad?” 

“Uhm,” Jungkook whispers, averting his gaze and swallowing audibly. “Yeah- yeah, I did… but how did you know?” 

“Because I did, too. Was I in your dream?” Jungkook nods. “You have to tell me what you dreamt of, Kook-ah.” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Not here, okay? Let’s go back to my place and we can talk about it.”

“Isn’t your mom home?” 

“She went out to check on a friend,” Jungkook says, but his voice shakes a little. Hoseok doesn’t pay it any mind. “She’ll be back later.” 

“Okay, let’s go.”

That evening, Hoseok lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. 

_”I was home, and the lights went out. But when I touched the wall- I don’t know, it was like, I could feel electricity running through my body. And I guess I channeled that or something, because all of a sudden a spark is running down my arm and fingers and the lights are back on.” Jungkook recalls his dream to Hoseok. _

_They sit side by side on Jungkook’s bed._

_“And then?” _

_“Then I’m in front of a mirror and it takes me a second to realize why I feel so wrong and-”_

_“Your eyes were red?”_

_“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “And then I was out on the street, and you were there and-” _

_“My eyes were red.” _

_“Yeah,” Jungkook says quietly, looking down at his lap._

_“Yeah,” Hoseok echoes._

Maybe Hoseok is overthinking things. 

He’s definitely overthinking things. 

Maybe none of this is what Hoseok thinks it is. And what he thinks it is he’s not entirely sure of, either. 

Something is wrong, that much is true, and Hoseok can’t help but feel like his and Jungkook’s dreams were more like premonitions. 

Some kind of warning. 

Hoseok is terrified, but at the very least he’s glad to have Jungkook. He doesn’t think his parents would believe his nightmare, doesn’t think they’d believe that it meant something. 

His mind wanders and he thinks of his sister, thinks of all the people who are gone. Thinks of his eyes glowing red, of his mother’s tears and his father’s anger. 

Thinks of this world and how cruel it can be. 

How much he hates it. 

His skin feels hot, like there’s a live fire burning and buzzing just beneath the surface.

The angrier he gets, the more he feels it. It almost hurts but Hoseok doesn’t care, he just wants to understand what the fuck is going on.

Why did his life have to change this way? When he was so content not feeling anything? Now his sister is gone, his family boken, and he can’t shake the feeling like the rest of his world will fall apart at any second. 

It overwhelms him, anger burning deep inside him and beneath his skin, until he’s fisting his covers and throwing them onto the ground. 

“Shit,” he whispers to himself. 

He looks down at his right arm, where the burning sensation seems to be strongest, and almost screams when he sees how red his skin is turning. 

Like it’s actually burning. 

He runs down to the kitchen, throws the freezer open and grabs a couple of bags of frozen vegetables and takes them over to the sink. He puts them on top of his right arm but the cold does nothing to help the heat.

Hoseok watches in horror as little bits of steam rise from the frozen bags, like his skin is burning them, too. 

“Hoseok? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he sobs, doesn’t even remember when he started crying. His brows are furrowed so hard his head aches. He glares down at where the bag of frozen peas touching his arm rips open, the bag coming apart because Hoseok’s hand is that hot to the touch. 

His mother walks up to him, reaching out and Hoseok flinches back, some of the frozen peas fly out and fall onto the floor. He hits his elbow against the counter in an effort to back away from his mother, yelping at the pain. 

“Don’t touch me!” he yells. 

“Hoseokie, what’s-” and when his mother finally tears her gaze away from the frozen bag of vegetables to look up at Hoseok, her eyes widen in fear. 

_No, no, no, no._

This can’t be. 

“Your eyes Hoseok-” 

“No!” 

His father walks in then, confusion written all over his face as he takes in the scene before him. “Is everything okay?”

“Don’t come near me, alright!” Hoseok shouts, voice cracking as he spits out his words. 

“Hoseok,” his father tries again, marching forward and gripping Hoseok’s wrist. 

It’s all too late. 

“I said don’t touch me!” 

His father recoils, arm snapping up to his chest like he’d just touched a hot pan. He looks down at his hand and just like his mother a moment ago, his eyes are full of horror. “Son… you burned me?” 

“I told you,” Hoseok weeps. “I told you to stay away from me.” 

“What are you?” his father asks. 

“What?” 

“Who are you? Why are your eyes red? Where’s my son?” 

“I am your son!” 

His father shakes his head, backing away. He looks at Hoseok like he’s a monster, like he’s been possessed. 

“Eomma,” Hoseok pleads.

Tears fall down her face as she holds onto Hoseok’s father. She’s frozen, staring into Hoseok’s eyes.

Hoseok stands up a little straighter, cautiously approaching his parents but they back away again. He doesn’t miss the way his father’s eyes harden at Hoseok, like he’s a threat, like he isn’t looking at his own son. 

They’re afraid of him. 

Hoseok looks back at them. “I’m sorry,” he tells them. “I love you.” 

He walks past them, doesn’t miss the way they cower away one more time as he pases them to exit the kitchen. 

Up in his room, Hoseok packs whatever he can fit into his backpack. He doesn’t know where he’ll go but he knows he can’t stay here without the risk of hurting his parents. 

And even then, they don’t believe Hoseok is their son anymore. 

They must think the real Hoseok got swept away in the events of Hell’s Gate, and now some evil thing has taken over, disguised as Hoseok to trick them into- Hoseok doesn’t even know what. He doesn’t blame them, though, what else were they supposed to think?

His poor parents, losing their only children in the span of twenty-four hours. 

What a cruel, cruel, world.

By the time he’d left his home (his parents had locked themselves in their bedroom, his mother yelped when the door rattled as Hoseok slipped a note beneath the door) the burning sensation beneath his skin had subsided somewhat. 

It isn’t painful, just irritating, and Hoseok doesn’t know how to control it. Doesn’t know if there’s some way to turn it off. 

He pulls out his phone, sending a text to the only person who’d maybe believe that Jung Hoseok was still himself. 

Jungkook meets Hoseok in the alley they spoke in yesterday. Hoseok notices that the younger boy has a backpack, too. Much larger than Hoseok’s, like he’d decided to pack his life up and run away as well.

“Hyung?” 

Hoseok looks up at Jungkook and isn’t even surprised when his eyes widen just a fraction at the sight before him. He hadn’t taken the time to look in the mirror on his way out of his home, but he didn't need to. 

He didn’t need to see that he’d become a monster. 

“Your- your eyes,” Jungkook says. 

“Just like we dreamt, huh?” 

Jungkook shudders out a breath. “Are you alright?” 

“It feels like my skin is on fire, and my parents think I’m possessed by a demon. I can’t go back home.” 

“Hyung,” Jungkook says sadly, he’s about to reach out to Hoseok-

“Don’t touch me, alright? I’ll burn you,” Hoseok warns him, voice quiet and defeated. 

“O- okay.”

Hoseok nods at the backpack hanging off Jungkook’s shoulder. “Why do you have that backpack with you?” 

“Remember my dream?”

Hoseok nods. 

“It came true, too.”

“Your eyes aren’t red.” 

“They were earlier, but after a while it went away.”

“What about your mom?” 

“Oh, I- uh, kind of lied about that yesterday.” 

Hoseok tilts his head. “What?” 

“She disappeared when Hell’s Gate appeared, I think. Or at least, she must have. I didn’t wanna talk about it so-” he cuts himself off, staring down at the ground. 

Hoseok so badly wants to reach out and hug Jungkook, but he can’t risk it right now. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok says, throat closing up. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jungkook sniffles, wiping his tears away with his forearm. “We don’t have to talk about it now, alright? I just- I can’t be home right now when she’s- when she’s-”

“I know,” Hoseok assures him. “I know.”

“What do we do now, hyung? Where do we go?” 

“I don’t know,” Hoseok admits. 

The burning feeling leaves him then. 

“Are my eyes still red?”

Jungkook looks up at him. Shakes his head. 

Hoseok reaches out, grabbing Jungkook’s hand. 

“It’ll be alright,” he promises Jungkook, squeezing his hand. “It’ll be alright,” he says again, even though deep down, some part of him knows that could never be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know your thoughts, I dunno! comments and kudos are appreciated <3 thank you for reading!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ughssope)


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